


Made Glorious Summer

by Crowgirl



Series: On the Strength of the Evidence [26]
Category: Grantchester (TV)
Genre: Beach Holidays, Consensual Infidelity, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Found Families, Future Fic, Holidays, Lightly Beta Read, M/M, Near Future, Non-Chronological, Not Beta Read, Semi-Public Sex, Summer, Summer Vacation, Unacknowledged Relationships, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 23:26:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9851633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl
Summary: Bits of a Scottish beach holiday.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kivrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivrin/gifts), [Mary_Jane221B](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mary_Jane221B/gifts), [elizajane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizajane/gifts).



Caroline wakes, stretches, and pulls on the loose kimono she keeps for holidays and leaves her solitary bed without a backward glance. It’s still too early for the children to be up but, a glance at the clock confirms, not for much longer. She can hear rattling and a quiet curse in the kitchen below.

* * *

When she enters the kitchen, Sidney glances up with an almost guilty expression, then seems to realise it and straightens himself. ‘Good morning.’ 

‘’Morning.’ She gestures to the coffee pot he’s holding. ‘Having problems?’

‘It’s -- I’m not --’ He glances between the pot and the tin of coffee grounds on the table. ‘Yes.’ 

She smiles and stretches across the table to pat him on the shoulder, noticing as she does so that he’s wearing Geordie’s shirt. The stain on the left shoulder from Davie’s cornet of the day before is unmistakeable. She doesn’t mention it but does give herself a silent pat on the back for the time she had taken beforehand with the sleeping arrangements. 

With the girls safely stowed in the attic, she, Cathy, Geordie, and Sidney are more or less free to do as they like with the remaining three rooms. Geordie worries about what the girls might notice so she knows whatever had happened earlier in the evening, he and Cathy had ended up in one room. ‘Don’t worry -- the girls will be up shortly and Cath and I will take them down to the shore for a few hours.’

He jolts away from her and she can see the sudden high flush of color along his cheekbones. He looks very _young_ like this, hair still ruffled from sleep, cuffs unbuttoned, barefoot. She’s never found a man attractive in the way she does Cathy but she can see what about this man would draw Geordie’s eye. Fortunately, there’s something to him beyond the looks or they wouldn’t be standing here now.

‘I -- er --’ 

She waits as he fumbles and then sighs again, running a hand over his head and looking at her with a disarming directness. ‘I’m … this is -- all very -- different.’

She smiles again and slides the coffee pot out of his hand. ‘I’ve always enjoyed being different. I think you’ll find it can be quite a lot of fun if you do it correctly.’


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...sweet, milky, and strong enough stun the unprepared.

Geordie feels the bed move as Cathy stands up and, forgetting where they are for a moment, automatically begins to gather himself together ahead of the harsh rattle of the alarm clock. There’s a creak and sea air sweeps over the room like a wave and he lets himself fall back on the pillow with a groan. 

Cathy chuckles and he hears her pad around the end of the bed. ‘Lie in, love -- there’s no need for you to get up. Caro and I can see to the girls.’ 

‘You sure?’ He squints one eye open in her direction.

‘Positive. I’ll send your lad up if I see him.’ She winks at him and disappears into the hall before he can do more than think about tossing a pillow at her. She and Caro have been like schoolgirls over him and Sidney and he should probably find it annoying but it feels more like reassurance.

And if Cathy wants to volunteer to take the kids he’s not a good enough man to give up a lie-in on his first holiday morning in eight months to argue the point with her. He turns on his side, shoving his pillow into a more comfortable shape and luxuriates in the knowledge that the only alarm clock within miles is Caro’s and she doesn't set it unless someone has to catch a morning train.

There’s a tap on the door and before he can say anything, Sidney’s standing by the side of the bed with a mug of coffee in each hand. ‘Caroline assures me this is how you like it when you’re on holiday.’

Geordie squints up at him, then pushes himself to sitting and takes one mug. ‘Did you make it?’

Sidney makes a face at him. ‘No, you’re safe. This is Caroline’s.’

Geordie takes a sip and, yes, this is Caro’s signature brew: sweet, milky, and strong enough stun the unprepared. 

Sidney raises an eyebrow. ‘You don’t usually make that sort of noise for coffee.’

Geordie edges into the middle of the bed and flips the blankets back. ‘So get in and we’ll see what else we can come up with.’


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘We’re hardly breaking public decency laws.’

Sidney hesitates and Geordie cocks his head, petting the bed like he would encouraging Dickens to jump up somewhere Mrs M doesn’t want him. 

‘Should we?’ Sidney jerks his chin towards the door, the stairs, the outside world. 

Geordie glances at the dressing table; Cathy’s watch is gone which means she’s dressed for the morning. ‘Don’t see why not. We are on holiday.’ He tries for a suggestive expression but Sidney is clearly distracted and actually takes a step backwards, clutching at his coffee. ‘Sidney?’

‘It -- is this -- is this how you and Cathy --’ Sidney waves a hand at the bed. ‘How you made it work before?’

‘Made...what work before?’ Geordie leans over and puts his cup on the bedside table beside his watch, then pushes back the bedclothes, and sits on the edge of the bed.

Sidney flushes. ‘When -- you had a lover.’

‘Oh.’ Geordie rubs at his unshaven chin and grimaces at the feeling. There’s the slam of a door overhead and a rush of feet on the uncarpeted stairs. Sidney freezes in place.

‘For, God’s sake, man, relax.’ Geordie stretches to the end of the bed and yanks up the pajama shirt he had abandoned last night, tugging it on. With that and his pants, he’s more or less as he would be sleeping at home. ‘You brought me a cup of coffee. We’re hardly breaking public decency laws.’ 

Sidney tries for a smile, but it looks rather wooden. ‘No, I -- I’m sorry, I --’ He makes a gesture with his free hand that seems to encompass the entire house. ‘I wasn’t -- quite prepared.’

‘For what? A day off?’ Geordie leans back to the foot of the bed and cranes to glower at himself in the narrow dressing table mirror. From feeling nicely drowsy with the prospect of a good lie-in ahead of him, he feels definitely irritable. He takes a deep breath, makes himself let it out slowly, and picks his coffee back up. If nothing else, Caro’s a lot to deal with on an empty stomach; he can’t blame Sidney for that. 

‘No.’ Sidney glances back at the door and frowns, then crosses the room and sits beside Geordie.

‘You sure?’ Geordie doesn’t realize it’s going to sound so acid until he hears himself. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Sidney says, looking down at the cup cradled in his hands. ‘I’m not -- I hadn’t thought what it would be like. With -- people knowing.’ He glances sideways at Geordie.

Geordie sighs and rubs his free hand over his face. ‘No, I suppose not. And, no, this isn’t how we made it work before because we never made it work before.’ He pauses, hearing the silence in the room. ‘So.’ He drains the coffee cup and puts it back on the bedside table. 

It feels like a declaration or an admission and he isn’t at all sure that he meant to make it. He and Sidney have never talked about past encounters; it isn’t like most of his were such a pleasure that he wants to revisit them. Now there it is and he straightens his back against the craven desire to say something to lessen the impact, make light of it. 

If Sidney hadn’t realised before what this was to Geordie, then it was probably time he did but Geordie hadn't pictured the conversation happening on an unmade bed in his wife's lover's Scottish holiday cottage with his children downstairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there a tag for "Stupidly Self-Indulgent"? Or "OMG So Self-Indulgent Why Am I Posting This"?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s _embarrassed,_ Sidney realizes, seeing the slow creep of color up Geordie’s throat.

Sidney fixes his gaze on his cup, watching the steam curl upwards in a gentle spiral. He can hear Geordie breathing beside him, feel the warmth of his body almost touching Sidney’s. This had all seemed so much _easier_ the night before.

* * *

_‘Right.’ Geordie drops Sidney’s suitcase inside the door and, before Sidney can say anything, shuts the door, turns, and closes the distance between them in three steps, settling his hands on Sidney’s waist._

_‘Wait -- what -- what are you doing?’ Sidney’s torn between laughter and horror. The door is shut but, after all, it is only a door and beyond it are Cathy and the girls -- he can hear Esme’s voice overhead and Ivy calling up the stairs._

_Geordie cocks his head and raises his eyebrows. ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ He presses a kiss at the base of Sidney’s throat and runs his fingers up the back of Sidney’s neck, tugging him down slightly. ‘Y’great tall thing -- come down here --’_

* * *

Geordie says nothing on the bed beside him and Sidney can feel the silence between them becoming strained. _‘This isn’t how we made it work before because we never made it work before.’_ Geordie’s words replay in his head and Sidney resists the urge to sigh in frustration. If Geordie has, truly, never done this before then why is Sidney the only one feeling the sharp edges? Geordie seems perfectly at ease with the idea that they might -- might have a quick bunk-up while Cathy and Caro are downstairs with the girls while Sidney keeps coming up against their presence like a wall; he simply _can’t_ get his thoughts to work around it.

 _… because we never made it work before._ Sidney blinks. ‘Never made it work before,’ he repeats aloud before he means to.

Geordie stiffens slightly, his fingers tightening on his empty coffee cup. ‘’s what I said.’

‘But -- Geordie, I--’

‘Wasn’t worth it, all right?’ Geordie interrupts, getting to his feet and dropping the cup back on his bedside table with a sharp _tap._

‘Wait--’ Sidney reaches out and grabs Geordie’s hand, suddenly afraid that he has made some irrevocable error. ‘I didn’t mean I don’t _believe_ you, I do, I just -- I don’t understand. You told me you and Cathy had...had an understanding--’

Geordie makes an impatient movement. ‘We did -- _do._ Doesn’t mean I ever... _did_ anything with it.’ 

Sidney blinks at him again. ‘What?’

Geordie groans and rubs his free hand over his face, fixing his gaze out the window over Sidney’s shoulder. He’s _embarrassed,_ Sidney realizes, seeing the slow creep of color up Geordie’s throat. ‘The kind I wanted -- didn’t want me.’ His eyes flick back to Sidney’s face and linger, then he shakes his head. ‘’Til you, y’silly sod.’ 

Sidney stares at him, not realizing he’s forgotten to breathe until red spots flash in his vision and he has to drag in a deep breath. Geordie smiles, a little tired, and brushes the fingers of his free hand over Sidney’s jaw, then lets his hand drop back to his side.

‘Geordie, I--’ Sidney stumbles into silence and _why_ does he have so many words except for the times he needs them to describe to Geordie this feeling of something having _opened_ in his chest -- as though something as simple as Geordie touching his cheek had answered questions and solved problems without Geordie saying a thing. He shoves his empty cup blindly at the dressing table and reaches out to catch Geordie’s forearms, pulling him forward between Sidney’s knees. Geordie comes easily, resting his hands on Sidney’s shoulders and letting Sidney link his hands at the small of Geordie’s back, pressing his cheek against the warmth of Geordie’s belly under the unbuttoned shirt.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘But maybe not standing up in the sea, yeah?’
> 
> ‘I thought you brought a few too many towels.’

‘Come on.’

Sidney looks up from his book, squinting slightly in the sun; Geordie's standing beside his chair, towels over his shoulder. ‘Where?’

Geordie rolls his eyes. ‘Where d’you think? Come _on.’_ He emphasizes the words with a tug on Sidney's shoulder and Sidney goes, not without a glance back at the kitchen door.

‘Isn't anyone else coming with us?’ Usually getting more than two steps towards the path to the beach without being immediately followed by at least Dora and usually Dickens is an impossibility.

‘Caro's taken them into town.’ Geordie slows down a step so he and Sidney are walking side by side. ‘Cath's down with a headache and Dickens fell asleep on my side of the bed.’

Sidney winces in sympathy and pauses. ‘Is there anything--’

‘What do you want to do -- ask for permission?’ Geordie glances up at him with an arched eyebrow and Sidney can feel himself blushing. Geordie snorts and gives him a companionable nudge. ‘She’s asleep.’

The air gets perceptibly cooler as they come around the final curve of dunes onto the stretch of beach. The morning had been windy and there are still splashes of damp sand further up the shore than is usual but the water is calm now, lapping in along its normal course as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Geordie drapes the towels over the twisted bit of driftwood Caro had found and dragged up the beach for a towel horse. He balances himself with one hand on the wood while he toes off his canvas shoes, then glances up at Sidney. ‘Well? You just going to stand there and watch me or what?’

Sidney pretends to consider the idea for a moment then shrugs theatrically and begins to unbutton his shirt. ‘Well, I suppose if you _have_ gone to all this trouble---’

Geordie laughs and splashes into the water while Sidney shrugs out of his shirt. He ducks down once as Sidney watches, disappearing into a translucent green wave, then comes back up, pushing his hair out of his eyes, the soaked fabric of his shorts clinging to and slipping down his belly. He stands hip-deep with the waves breaking at his back, watching Sidney come down the sand towards him. ‘C’mon, then.’

He holds out a hand, dripping with seawater, and Sidney takes it, letting himself be pulled out into the deeper water.

The water’s cool against his shins and Sidney starts to shiver involuntarily, over-warm from sitting in the sun since lunch. There’s one way to solve that and Sidney takes it, squeezing Geordie’s hand before he lets go and steps forward into an oncoming wave. He can’t hold his breath in the ocean as long as he can anywhere else -- something to do with the push and pull of the current that he can’t anticipate -- so he has to pop back to the surface after only a few strokes, puffing and raking his hair back out of his eyes.

Geordie is standing about where Sidney left him, hands on his hips, watching with an open admiration that would make Sidney’s ears burn in other circumstances. ‘You’re damn near indecent when you do that, you know.’

‘Am I?’ Sidney shakes his head briskly and wades back to where Geordie is standing. He pauses a step or so away and lets Geordie reach out to pull him in. It isn’t that Sidney thinks there’s a possibility Geordie _won’t_ , not now, but there’s something endlessly reassuring in the fact that he _does._

‘First time we went swimming… d’you remember?’ Geordie fits his hands over the curves of Sidney’s hipbones, watching his own fingers as if it takes a great deal of concentration to put each one in the right place. Sidney lets himself go easily with the touch, the faint suggestion from Geordie’s fingertips that he might move a bit closer.

‘In the river.’ Sidney runs a thumb along Geordie’s collarbone, feeling the slight tackiness of dried saltwater already beginning to gather. Another few minutes standing in the steady sun and Geordie’s shoulders will be dry and taste like the sea when Sidney kisses them. He can see the lines of the vest Geordie usually wears when they’re down here with the girls -- his skin is noticeably paler within the lines and starting to freckle just over his shoulders and upper arms. 

‘Mmm.’ Geordie nods. ‘Couldn’t decide which I wanted to do more -- throw a towel over you or kiss you silly.’

Sidney laughs and ducks forward to kiss the soft spot under Geordie’s left ear. ‘As I remember,’ he says quietly while he’s there, letting his lips brush Geordie’s throat as he speaks, ‘you didn’t do either.’

Geordie shudders and takes a deliberate step forward, pressing their bellies together, his hands sliding from Sidney’s hips around to the small of his back, warm where the breeze off the water is cooling Sidney’s wet skin. ‘Damn near cracked the enamel on me teeth _not_ doing it.’

‘Mmm--’ Sidney pretends to consider, kissing a line down Geordie’s throat as he does so. ‘I remember more beer drinking.’

Geordie snorts and shifts, nosing at Sidney’s jawline. ‘Had to do something with me hands, didn’t I?’ He nips gently at Sidney’s lower lip.

Sidney slips his fingers under the waistband of Geordie’s shorts, gently encouraging their drift downwards over Geordie’s hips, and shifts position very slightly so he can press his thigh against Geordie’s groin. Geordie groans, dropping his forehead against Sidney’s shoulder. ‘Well, there’s nothing stopping you doing whatever you want with them now, is there?’ 

Geordie laughs, his voice slightly muffled against Sidney’s collarbone. ‘But maybe not standing up in the sea, yeah?’

‘I thought you brought a few too many towels.’

* * *

They’ve done this once before -- in the first week of their stay, when the suncream had been forgotten back at the cottage and Caro and Cathy chose to herd the girls back early. They’d insisted Geordie and Sidney stay behind to finish the remains of the lunch before joining them. Sidney hadn’t been able to decide that day whether or not the entire thing had been pre-arranged or not and, just after getting Geordie’s shirt off, he’d decided he didn’t really care.

Now, back on the beach, Geordie uses the driftwood and a curve of the rock as a kind of makeshift headboard and turns the towels into a not-uncomfortable looking nest. He makes a show of testing it out, lowering himself gingerly down and then leaning back against the padded rock with a sigh, patting the towel by his side. ‘Not so bad once you get used to it.’ 

Sidney pauses for a moment to skin off his shorts, ignoring Geordie’s low whistle as he drapes them over the rocks to dry in the sun. He kneels over Geordie who obligingly shifts down on the towels, spreading his legs and reaching up for Sidney’s shoulders. When Sidney doesn’t go with the tug, Geordie raises an eyebrow but doesn’t protest. Instead, he lets his hands trail down over Sidney’s breast and ribs. His fingers linger over the scar on Sidney’s right side, tracing the thin silver line that’s the only sign left of the stitches.

Sidney waits, enjoying the pleasant tingle of anticipation while Geordie reassures himself that the scar is just a scar, as healed as it was last night when he had pressed his hands briefly below Sidney’s shirt. Geordie’s hands feel good wherever he touches and Sidney is starting to feel certain enough in this, _all_ of this, to stop keeping that tiny piece of himself reserved, observing rather than involved. 

In any case, the scar on his side isn’t one of the places on his body that still make Sidney want to shrink away. Geordie’s cautious around those, letting his hands sweep lightly over the marks on Sidney’s shoulders without stopping or investigating. Sidney knows Geordie _wants_ to know, can almost feel the questions coming through Geordie’s fingertips, but those aren’t stories for today.

When Geordie’s hands come to rest over Sidney’s hips, thumbs comfortably nestled in the creases of Sidney’s thighs, Sidney lets himself drop forward -- an application of a press-up he’s betting his drill instructor never thought of -- and nuzzle the small brown nub of Geordie’s nipple. Geordie sucks in his breath sharply and holds it and Sidney smiles, testing Geordie’s skin with the very tip of his tongue. 

It’s an interesting combination of sensations: the smoothness of Geordie’s nipple against the roughness of his chest hair and it had taken Sidney a little while to get used to it. Geordie had assured him more than once that he didn’t need to bother but the clutch of his hands over Sidney’s shoulders and in Sidney’s hair when he _did_ bother put the lie to that. 

Now, Sidney nips, gently and only once, smoothes the pebbling skin with his tongue, then shifts, licking the other side with a quick, hard press of his tongue that wins him a muttered curse and the slip of Geordie’s fingers in his wet hair. 

Geordie tastes like salt and sweat and, very faintly, sandalwood soap and Sidney finds himself distracted following the taste down the center of Geordie’s abdomen, dropping down onto one elbow so he can reach up and thumb over the nipple he’s temporarily abandoned. 

Geordie gasps and, unexpectedly, catches Sidney’s hand, pushes, and _twists_ so Sidney finds himself on his back, Geordie kneeling over him, catching his other hand, pinning them both above his head before Sidney can do anything. ‘You’re a bloody hazard, you are,’ Geordie says, his eyes gone dark with arousal, the green almost swallowed up by black. 

Sidney grins at him and rolls his hips up. He can feel Geordie hard against his thigh, but he can also feel the wet catch of fabric. ‘You’ve got too many clothes on.’

Geordie _hmm_ s in a vague fashion and drops his head enough to give Sidney a kiss that, despite Sidney’s best efforts, doesn’t linger. Instead, he licks and nips a path down Sidney’s throat, over the arch of his collarbone, licking at the hollow of the bone and the inner curves of the pectoral muscle with a thoroughness that has Sidney gasping. Geordie manages to keep his grip on Sidney’s wrists as he slides further down Sidney’s body, slipping slightly to one side so his full weight isn’t on Sidney’s chest.

Somewhere in that, he must loosen the grip of one hand although Sidney doesn’t know when, because it’s smoothing down over Sidney’s breast and ribs, Geordie’s fingertips tracing the crease of his thigh, almost but not quite stroking his balls, and retracing their path. 

Geordie keeps doing this, following the same path, accompanying the motion of his hand with a slow, deliberate exploration of Sidney’s throat with his mouth, until Sidney is sure he won’t be able to catch his breath if this keeps up a minute longer. ‘Geordie -- _please --’_

Geordie lets go his grip on Sidney’s hand and pushes himself down, propping himself on one elbow and stroking the length of Sidney’s cock with his free hand. Sidney drops a forearm over his face, squeezing his eyes shut, and has to bite the underside of his wrist when Geordie’s mouth is suddenly on him, hot and slick and Geordie’s _tongue--_

He nearly sobs when the sensation vanishes and he can feel Geordie tugging on the arm over his face. ‘No, no -- that’s not why I brought you out here -- c’mon, love --’

‘What -- what?’ Sidney lets his arm be pulled away and blinks up at Geordie who smiles at him and ducks down to kiss him.

‘Want to hear you -- don’t get the chance often, do I?’ Geordie half-mutters the words against Sidney’s mouth as if embarrassed and slips back down Sidney’s body so quickly Sidney doesn’t have time to say anything and can only gasp as Geordie’s mouth covers him again.

Sidney bites his lips together -- sheer reflex at this point -- and _holds_ himself silent until Geordie pulls off to take a deep breath and makes a sound of genuine pleasure as he swallows and Sidney couldn’t keep his mouth shut if he tried. ‘Fuck, Geordie, I don’t, I can’t --’

‘Oh, I think you can,’ Geordie says, voice roughened, and licks over the crown of Sidney’s cock, his palm warm around the rest of Sidney’s length.

 _‘Christ,_ I...I…’ Sidney squeezes his eyes shut and struggles not to arch up into Geordie’s mouth. _‘Fuck--’_

Geordie pulls off again and Sidney can feel the puff of his breath on wet skin as he speaks. ‘Sorry, didn’t bring the stuff with me.’ He smoothes along the length of Sidney’s prick with his thumb, follows his thumb with a line of kisses, then adds, ‘Maybe next time.’

Sidney moans and _hears_ himself moan and has a vision of what it might be like to fuck Geordie, here, on this beach, in the sunlight, with time and room and no need to keep quiet and what Geordie might _sound_ like even if Sidney was just able to slip a finger inside him _now--_

Geordie hums in satisfaction and slips back, working the last twitches of orgasm out of Sidney’s body with the slow, sure pressure of his hand. 

‘See, I said you could.’

Sidney groans and shoves himself up with the last fragment of muscular control he has to drag Geordie down against his chest, rolling slightly so he can get a hand between their bodies and turn Geordie’s laughter into a gasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all hail and favor to the most gracious of beta readers, [elizajane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/elizajane) and the lady [Kivrin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivrin).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Esme takes a sip of her coffee and looks at Caro for a long moment, then smiles.

The girls all clatter into the kitchen together and Caro adds extra sugar to her second cup of coffee. 

Dora and Ivy go straight to the icebox and start a sort of bucket line arrangement, pulling out milk and butter and bread. Esme, with a quick glance at Caro, pours herself a cup of coffee and milks it heavily.

‘Where’s your father?’ Caro asks. Cathy has gone out for her morning walk and she’d like to have one of the other adults awake before she takes the car into the village.

Before Esme, to whom the question had really been addressed can swallow her mouthful and say anything, Dora pipes up: ‘Oh, he and Uncle Sidney just got up.’

Caro does her best not to blink, suddenly very aware of Esme's dark eyes sharp on her face. ‘Oh? How d’you know that?’

Ivy hands a jar of jam to Dora who turns to put it on the table with the bread and responds, ‘We heard Uncle Sidney sneeze as we were coming down and daddy said “bless you.”’

Christ almighty. It would be something so bloody simple that would give them away in the end. Although Caro is willing to lay money she doesn’t have that the two younger girls don’t realise what they’ve said.

Esme, on the other hand-- Caro looks over at her. ‘Do you want to come for a run in the car?’

‘Oh, Essie---’ It’s Ivy who speaks this time, turning to look imploringly at her sister.

Esme takes a sip of her coffee and looks at Caro for a moment, then shakes her head. ‘We’re going down to the beach. That’s all right, isn’t it?’

Caro nods, watching Esme’s face -- her eyes so like Geordie’s, her mouth and chin just like Cathy’s when she was younger. ‘Yes -- yes, of course.’ Esme's gaze is direct and steady, there's nothing in her face or voice to indicate she's uneasy or unhappy in the slightest and Caro's not one to borrow trouble.

Esme takes another sip of coffee and then puts her cup down, turning to the table to help with the assembly of jam sandwiches. As she does, though, she reaches out to put a hand over Caro’s on the counter and squeezes, just for a moment. Their eyes meet for a last minute and Esme smiles, just slightly, and steps away to the table.

Caro turns her back to the kitchen, busying herself with fresh grounds for the coffee pot as the girls’ voices blend together behind her and cover the deep breaths she has to take to steady herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This now has its proper prequel: [That Which Is Hath Been Before](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13796838/chapters/31718004).

**Author's Note:**

> The title is, yes, from _[Richard III](http://www.bartleby.com/70/3311.html)_ and the entire thing gifted to my shameless enablers for their shameless enabling.


End file.
